Here comes the cold drizzle of November
screeching ’round the corner into the yard
thrashing the spindly branches of leafless trees
in a madness of envy, desire, and loss.

The damp and chill days have set in now
seem willing to take hold, to camp here
until spring or take early summer hostage
before pulling up soggy roots, harrumphing away.

Yet there are the fallen leaves and broken branches
littering the ground, not to be raked or bothered.
A few yellow leaves hang desperately on
wishing to remember the season when they were new.

The loveliness of it all breaks the barriers against love
and the remembrance of all that is warmed by the sun –
the hearts of family and friends, the beating hearts
of all the trees, the furry animals, the very stones.

That lie under the darkness of the chill moon
where sleep and dream hide in thrall.
For all of these I will be thankful and let the rain
fall where it will and the wild November winds blow.
___________________________________________________________________________

Portland, Oregon – November 25, 2020

This dread year now begins to come to a close and we have reason to hope. Yet, we must remain vigilant. But, that is the subject for the Advent season that is just around the corner.